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I know this sounds strange, but as a boy I used to wander through the blitzed homes of by friends looking at where the stairs used to be and wondering what happened to the family, then thinking maybe our turn next? It`s an odd one to call a favourite but it has links to friends who survived and how we lived each day as if it was our last. How I long for that comradeship. The memories are so rich and so much a part of me. what do they say "all our yesterdays where the past is always present".